The Times They Are AChangin'
by Lex Reign
Summary: WIP, Draco/Hermoine. Set before the war, an affair under questionable circumstances. Smut, non-consensual, abuse, the usual but loads of fun!


It had been a week since she was the shoulder that Ginny had grudgingly cried on, and Hermoine could not for the life of her understand how the fiery red-head had been suckered in by such a foul, egocentric, psychotic sadist. The two girls had never been extremely close, but as she was the best friend of her older brother and the supposed man of Ginny's dreams, scoffing at the thought, it was only natural that the youth would depend on her guidance and discretion. Of course that had not stopped the rumors emanating from the Slytherin House that the ferret had managed another notch on his belt from Gryffindor. Hermoine sighed to herself and scribbled a few more lines of notes from the large text in front of her, the mundane task of copying facts did not preoccupy her thoughts and she was already well aware that she had surpassed the expectations of the essay due.

Her eyes darted up to glare angrily at the bane of her friend's existence briskly making his way to a shelf. He was fingering the spines of multiple encyclopedias, seemingly completely ignorant to Hermoine's hateful stare. Deftly lifting a thick volume, he licked the pad of his thumb and swiftly flipped through the pages, obviously discerning if this text enclosed the desired information. His brow knitted as his movements suddenly halted and a slow smirk spread across his stoic visage. Hermoine stiffened but remained steadfast, hoping he would spontaneously combust from the fire of her temper. He only replaced the book just as demurely as before and paused, she knew that he was watching her. Though he was conniving, Hermoine knew the signs of a plotting serpent and was for a moment wary. He turned to her, his posture straight and confident. Hermoine glowered at his arrogance and laid her quill on the drying parchment, all caution thrown to the wind. She lifted her chin in distaste and his eyes narrowed but the smirk never faded.

"Something you have to say, Granger?" His arms crossed over his chest and Hermoine noticed that his robes were open and sneered at his audacity to forgoe the codes of regulation dress code while in the hallowed walls of her sanctuary.

"Nothing that would matter to you."

His arms lowered to his sides and he sauntered to the work table she had diligently been studying at, he leaned one arm on the desk and using the leverage of his superior height towered over the surface to look down on the prude. "Upset because it wasn't you, then?"

Hermoine's face clearly expressed her barely contained rage, "You had no right to hurt her and—"

Before she could finish, Malfoy slammed a fist on the table, "She was begging me for it and I only honored her with a few humored caresses because as a blood traitor, she should know exactly what she is missing."

Hermoine was livid, but remained in her seat, steeling her resolve, "You are unworthy of her."

Malfoy laughed, "That's rich, and I bet she told you she was a virgin?"

Hermoine did not falter, "I do not care whether or not if she—"

He interrupted her again, his laugh was malicious, "Yes, yes, defend your tarty little weaslette to the bitter end. Do you ever consider your own arse?"

Hermoine did not swayed, "I can think for myself, you only manipulate those that are susceptible to your wiles."

Malfoy huffed, "Really, I was asking," he paused to push the fringe of his bangs from his piercing eyes, the eyes that Ginny had claimed were overwhelmingly intoxicating, "do you ever think of what consequences will befall you when defending your pathetic excuses for friends?"

Hermoine had had enough and practically smashed her book closed only to rise clasping the tome to her chest, knuckles white, "Did you ever think that your pureblooded father would fail or that Lord," she spit the word out with distaste, "Voldemort, an insecure and heartbroken ninny, would have rule over you and your demented family?"

Malfoy's whole body tensed, his jaw tightened in disdain, "Only filth like you would see that you aren't—"

Hermoine crashed the book down between his hands and he only blinked, "You are under his sick control and I pity you for that but if you were not totally infatuated with these misguided ideals," her voice lowered threateningly, "I wouldn't waste my breath."

She began to shove her papers without concern into a rumpled pile and leaned to lift her school bag from the chair. As she shoved her notes into the bag, she momentarily regretted tearing the parchment containing the outline of the essay she had beforehand been working on so studiously. She was brought out of the passing reverie to be shaken by the shoulders. Looking up, shocked by his actions she had a shuttering fear skitter down her spine as her heart jumped into her throat. That fear lapsed across her face for a split second and Malfoy was slightly pleased. She demanded he let go of her and her fingers curled into a fist to repeat third year. Malfoy was aware of her brazen preparation and instead, thrust her belly-down onto the table. Her hands spread in front of her to lessen the impact but she was still stunned. The force exerted had not only put her on her flat against the scarred wood and face down but her legs came clean off of the floor and she gasped in protest.

Malfoy quickly pulled exploited the opportunity her thrashing legs presented and he violently tugged Hermoine's robe over her arms and head. She hardly had the time to react and was drowned in darkness. He flipped up her skirt. Malfoy liked her sensible knickers, a pale pastel boy shorts, small enough to nicely display her supple bottom. Chuckling, he unmercifully slapped Hermoine's ass. She squealed and he did it again and again, his shots aimed in the same place to heighten the burning pain. Hermoine kicked her legs and struggled through her confines but Malfoy held her down between the shoulder blades and moved to the other cheek. Hermoine felt the tears starting to fall and despised her own weakness, her cries muffled by the thick fabric surrounding her head. Malfoy soon finished his punishment and while laughing to himself gleefully surveyed the damage of the large red hand prints decorating her smooth back side. Malfoy left her then, casting a quick disillusionment charm over his shoulder.

As Hermoine squirmed her way off of the desk, righting her clothing she heard his authoritative voice, "Tell and your precocious weaslette will be expelled for her indiscretions. I will see to that myself."

He turned the corner and Hermoine wiped the tears from her face with the rough fabric of her sleeves. Gathering her remaining belongings, she hurried from the library and to the Gryffindor tower only to dump her bag and dash madly to the loo to investigate Malfoy's handy work. Shaking out of her robes and lifting her skirt, she saw nothing. She roughly pulled down her underwear and touched her right cheek only to be greeted with a stinging pain and heat radiating from the spot, but no marks were marring her flesh. Righting her clothing, she braced herself against a sink with both hands and stared at herself in the mirror. Her vision blurred and she scolded herself for allowing any regret for her exchange with Malfoy to enter her mind, no regret only an experience furnishing education for future interactions. The door burst open and Lavender and Parvati skipped into the room unannounced with little concern for the brooding girl already inside. Hermoine imperceptibly fixed her garments and scooped up her robes while exiting promptly. She would have to keep her mouth shut for now, Ginny had more than adequate reason to be expelled and the prodigal son of Lucius Malfoy would surely remain unharmed, in any event.

Hermoine resigned herself to keep silent about the entire evening.


End file.
